“Ahau Naj Tunich,” said Zyanya, bowing. “Lady Chalehiuitl.”341
“Ahau Naj Tunich. Lady Chalehiuitl.” I bowed deeply. “I am Fuck, T’oit’ik-jolom, Kaloonte’ to Ajawinel K’an II of Ox Witz Ha.” The Ahau sat up and his wife glanced at him briefly. “This is Yochi, Ukab Kaloonte’,” I continued. Yochi bowed. “We are on a journey, returning to Oz Witz Ha today. It has been a great journey during which we faced the wrath of the K’o-chuq’ab Kiäqiq’-jab, the Qas Nim Wo-ja’ on the Ja’-nima’, and the K’o-chuq’ab Kabraqan. Many of our people to the south, in the lands of Hozanek, suffer greatly and are in need of help. Many are dead. I have with me an emissary speaking on behalf of all the people that are asking for help for their villages and cities. He will also carry his plea to Ox Witz Ha.” I nodded to Xipilli. He bowed even more deeply than I did.
“I am Xipilli, Nabeal K’ojol and envoy of Nimalaj Achi Zipactonal of Nito. I bring an urgent message, a request for help. Nito and all the surrounding villages and cities have been destroyed and all our crops are lost. In Nito, there is not one house standing. We ask for food, clothing, seeds for replanting our crops, and transportation for those needed supplies.” Xipilli bowed again.
“Even the great city of Quiriguá has been devastated, Ahau,” I added.
The Ahau lifted his right hand, there was no change of expression on his face, but his eyes showed deep thoughts. His wife stared at us. “We have only just heard stories of the great havoc caused by those disasters. It is the gods that warn us of their impending anger.” He paused. “Today is a day of festivities in Naj Tunich, as we give homage to Manik, and I will not meet with my Nim-q’ij Batab today to discuss this matter. As Kinich Ahau returns from the Underworld, I will have my Nabe Kaloonte’, Izel, organize a convoy of Warriors and supplies. Ukab Kaloonte’!”
“Ahau!” answered Zyanya, bowing deeply.
“As it is you who accompany our visitors, get all the information required then assist Nabe Kaloonte’ Izel in organizing the convoy. You will lead the convoy. It will never be said that Naj Tunich failed to respond to the cry for help from our neighboring kingdoms.”
“Ahau!” exclaimed Zyanya, bowing again.
“Thank you, Ahau,” said Xipilli, bowing.
I was just about to speak when the Ahau help up his hand. “Kaloonte’!” I nodded. “We have a visitor from Ox Witz Ha. He is leading our ceremonies today as a way of strengthening our beliefs in our gods. He will return to Ox Witz Ha with renewed vigor as he fights the heresy that has taken hold of that kingdom. Perhaps, after the ceremonies, you would meet with him before you resume your journey.”
I felt koal seed rush through my body, once again, and that time I felt my hairs stand. I definitely didn’t want to meet that foka. Anyhow, if our plans went as we hoped, I wouldn’t have the opportunity.
“Kaloonte’?” warned the Ahau.
“Speak,” whispered Yochi, insistently.
“I would be honored, Ahau.” I bowed as deeply as Zyanya did, much more than I cared to do.
“Well, take your esteemed places. The ceremonies are about to begin.”
We all bowed again and returned to where the other Warriors were standing.
“Naj Tunich dreams of dominance,” said Yochi, quietly. I looked at him.
“What are you saying?” I asked. He smiled, gravely.
“Naj Tunich dreams of dominance and their gods are ‘dark’. I hope the convoy is not to provide them with an opportunity.”
I remained silent. I was in a beautiful but violent world. Molly was right. It was a “violent society”. Perhaps, if the Ahau did have intentions of dominance, he would use this opportunity of the natural disasters to send in Warriors under the guise of offering assistance thus forwarding his plans.
The music changed to the roll of the nim-tums. “It has begun,” said Yochi. “Let’s sit.”
I looked into Ch’ajch’oj Jul. Torches were lining the walls providing a vibrant light that fully illuminated the entrance and a passage leading north.
“They will be going into the Chúumuk Pa-raqan-ja.342 That is the one we will follow. There is a passage to the left, the Ochkin Pa-raqan-ja.343 We will not take that. It leads to the Choq’ Ja,”344 informed Zyanya.
” What’s in the Choq’ Ja?”
“Teyacapan didn’t go into much details, but it’s not important. We’re not going in there.”
I felt chastised, but I accepted it. I had to keep in mind that Zyanya was a senior Warrior in Naj Tunich’s army. He was more than my equal when it came to running an army and when it came to war.
“How well trained are the guards sworn to Manik?”
“They are not as well trained as our infantry. They spend a lot of their time praying to Manik rather than training. I suppose it is because they do not expect fighting within the tunnels.” He was silent for a moment. “But we must not underestimate them. They are trained Warriors. Do not let your Warriors think that they are going against a lesser foe. The Guards of Manik will draw great strength from their zealous loyalty to Manik.”
“There they go,” said Teul. “I never did like processions. I remember …”
“Quiet!” ordered Zyanya.
Someone else to discipline Teul. Good! I looked around me. Except for Zyanya, Yochi, and Xipilli, I was surrounded by the men of my two sections: Clarke, Anderson, Choco with his mate Chicahua, Rhys, Hulse with his mate Mazatl, Bas, Robertson, Parham, Choc, Taylor, Taat with his mate Iuitl, and Teul. I was suddenly chilled. I didn’t want to lose any of them again. I hurriedly threw the thoughts away. We were soldiers and soldiers die. We were Warriors and Warriors die. Yet, we must always remember that a soldier’s ultimate goal is to survive.
The cortege moved towards the balcony. The Ahau Can Mai of Ox Witz Ha led the spectacle, a naked boy with incense burners on either side of him. Immediately behind was the Chuchqajaw Rech Tinimit of Naj Tunich who also had two boys with him. Then came boys to the right and girls to the left in single file, each having their individual priest beside him or her, the children appearing to be between ten and fifteen years of age. Following them were two guards, then three guards, those sworn to Manik; I counted a total of thirty-five persons. There was daunting chanting to my left and I looked towards it. About a hundred young boys, wearing only a headdress decorated with blue feathers and each carrying a glyph of Manik were coming down the stair we had descended. Some carried a basket and other carried lit incense burners.
“Try not to breathe in deeply. You want to avoid the smoke, as much as possible. Act like you are eating the chojim-wa345 from the baskets, but do not,” said Zyanya. “The smoke will affect you, make you less aware. The chojim-wa has teonanacatl in it and that darkens your mind so you become an accomplice in the dark rite. You will not be able to fight. You will not even want to fight.”
Teul was beside me. “Pass the word, Teul.”
The boys continued chanting as they did their ceremonial duties to Manik. Six came to the Nim-q’ij Platform and bowed. Two then walked up and offered their baskets to Ahau Naj Tunich and Lady Chalehiuitl. The Nim-q’ij Couple took the chojim-wa and began eating. The boys stepped down then two others carrying incense burners ascended, one standing on the right of the Ahau and the other beside his wife. The remaining four boys approached us and two started passing one chojim-wa to each of us while the other two, with incense burners, stood in front of us. After the distribution, the remaining two boys joined the bulk of the boys who were already among the crowds, chanting and giving out the chojim-was, swinging their incense burners.
When the first whiff of smoke came to my nostrils from the incense burners, some demand from my youth made me take in a deep breath. It was a sweet and strong smell.
“Madafok!” commented Teul. “Free k’uutz.”
“Don’t breathe deeply,” stressed Zyanya, forcibly. “The priests have made the incense very potent to achieve the greatest effects for the ceremonies.
Act like you’re eating, then hide the chojim-wa in your loincloth.”
“Loincloth, again,” giggled Teul.
“Shut up!” ordered Zyanya.
“You heard Zyanya,” I said, quietly. “Pass it on.”
The sacrificial procession passed us slowly, stopped, bowed before the Nim-q’ij Platform then started going up the natural gradient leading to the Chúumuk Pa-raqan-ja going northerly. The chanting increased as the crowd joined in. I turned and looked towards them. Already, many had their eyes turned upwards and the mass were swaying right and left in unison. The chojim-was and smoke were taking immediate effect, so we had to move quickly or we’d be in serious trouble even if it were from the potent k’uutz alone.
I looked back to the tunnel through which the procession was disappearing slowly. Too slowly.
“Let’s get out of here,” urged Teul. “I can’t help myself. My lungs are just opening for the k’uutz.”
“Shut your mouth, Teul. Don’t breathe.”
“Well madafok!” he answered. “I’m trying.”
“Tell everyone to fall into their fireteams as quietly and inconspicuously as possible, Teul. Zyanya, Yochi, and I will lead the column. We proceed in double file. Iztali, Huehue and their fireteams come next, then Ikan and Chicahua, then Eztli with the rest of my fireteam, then Ichik and Bas who will have prime responsibility for the children, then you and Yaotl. We will be attacked on all fronts.”
“What about Sacnite and Xochitl? They don’t know how to fight.”
“I know that.” Aha! An unexpected opportunity. “I do also know what they are very capable of doing, Teul. That’s why you and Xipilli are in the predicament you are.”
Teul looked at me, grimaced, and shook his head knowing that, even in the desperate circumstances, I was taking the opportunity to razz him. “This is not the time for that,” he grunted.
“I can’t blame you for looking after your pussy, my friend. Or pussies. It is a bit confusing.” I smiled and he chuckled, a bit more relaxed even under the dire situation we are in. “I have placed them between Ikan, Chicahua, Ichik, and Bas. That’s the best I can do. Tell them to move along with us in the middle of the column. You’re not to be distracted by them. That is an order. Is that clear?” He stared at me then nodded. “Give Xipilli those instructions as well.” He nodded again. “And don’t inhale anymore k’uutz.”
Teul moved away without nodding, grumbling as he walked among the Warriors, “K’uutz’s the only madafok good thing happening around here right now.”
I didn’t know how the other Warriors were doing and I heard occasional muffled coughing. The persistent ghastly roll of the nim-tums was beginning to get on my nerves as it meant that children were being readied to be sacrificed to Manik. The chanting of the crowd was also getting louder. Ahau Taj Tunich had slumped further on his throne, but Lady Chalehiuitl remained upright.
I looked to Zyanya. “Wait,” he said. “We have to wait.” I took a deep therapeutic breath of the k’uutz.
About five minutes later, the dreadful roll of the nim-tuns stopped and Zyanya stepped out suddenly. “Ko’one’ex,” I shouted and we were racing in front of the Nim-q’ij Platform and up the incline towards the entrance of the tunnel. Yet, the macabre chanting continued as we raced into the well-lit tunnel, painted with strange texts, human faces, and figures. The guards lining both walls looked puzzled as they watched us pass. “Stop them,” came a shout and the guards began moving towards us.
Illustration 10: The Ch’ajch’oj Jul (Sacred Cave) of Naj Tunich (Modified).
Zyanya and I moved apart to take the first two guards. Before they even lifted their bate’s, Zyanya’s short bate’ tore into the chest of his opponent and my maquahuitl had taken off the right shoulder of the other approaching guard. My guard screamed in terror as he fell. Zyanya’s guard eyes opened wide and he just stood there until Zyanya pulled out his short bate’ after which the guard followed his gushing blood to the floor of the cave. The noises of battle began: war whoops, whistling, shouting, screams, and cries. The rolling of the nim-tums began again and interspersed with it was the sound of many la’j-tuns. Heavy fighting was occurring behind me as the Manik Guards that
had lined the walls attacked the fireteams behind me and Izel’s Warriors had moved in to attack Teul’s and Yaotl’s sections in the rear.
“Kaloonte’!” shouted Zyanya. I swung around just in time to lift my to’bal-rib and a short bate’ buried itself into it. I immediately had my maquahuitl on the upswing and, with all my force behind it, I saw it rip the guards jaw and sent it hurling. He fell to his knees and I started the downward blow, smashing his head into his shoulders. I lurched my to’bal-rib towards another approaching guard and rushed forward, raising it, the dead Warrior’s bate’ still attached to it. I directed the shaft towards his mouth, but he moved, reaching for the shaft. He was late and the shaft penetrated his right eye, sinking deep into his skull. Hot blood sprayed across my face, and my lips reached for it and tasted it. He did not cry out as I pulled back my to’bal-rib with the embedded bate’ shaft. He did not make a sound as he sank to the ground. I pulled out the broken shaft from my to’bal-rib and threw it to the ground beside the fallen guard. The stink of war was beginning to engulf us.
“Ko’one’ex,” I screamed above the violence, and I felt the surge of my Warriors behind me. The column had lost formation as the battle began in earnest. Ikan and his fireteam were to my left, Iztali to my right. One by one, the Manik Guards fell. Zyanya was right. They were not the best trained Warriors, but the enemy was the enemy and had to be taken out. Even in the fury of battle, the stink of blood and sweat, the cries of dying men, I wished the fallen a hurried trip to Xibalba. Teul and Yaotl were at the rear and they faced Izel’s Warriors. Their fight was much fiercer than ours and I could only pray that they were faring off as well as we were. We continued advancing and we were soon at the first altar and the end of the Chúumuk Pa-raqan-ja. There were no signs of the children or the priests that escorted them.
“Huehue,” I shouted.
“Kaloonte’.”
“Find anything that will burn and throw it on the altar and burn it.” That momentary distraction I had allowed myself cost me, not severely, thankfully. The blade of a bate’ sliced across the skin of my thighs, deep enough to bring blood, shallow enough not to be a problem.
“Take the left passage,” roared Zyanya.
We hurried up a natural incline that rose some eight feet above the floor of the Chúumuk Pa-raqan-ja, over broken plates and pieces of pottery.
I sighed in relief as I turned into the left passage and saw that there were no guards lining the walls, only torches. “No guards,” I shouted, stopping.
Zyanya shook his head. “There are always guards. They have gone with the children into K’u Multan346 or Mictlan Ch’en.”347 He saw the puzzled look on my face. “Those are the chambers of sacrifice. Because of our attack, the priests did not stop here so the children were not prepared for Manik to receive them. We need to hurry. They will be aware of everything that happens to them.”
War whoops came from further up the passage and a squad of Warriors ran towards us, their long bate’s aimed at our bodies. “Ko’one’ex. To’bal-ribs,” I bellowed. Our to’bal-ribs protected us and their bate’s were useless against us as they became embedded and our weapons remained free. I stumbled at times, hurrying over the bodies of the dying guards, hurrying towards the screams of children coming from K’u Multan.
“The children,” I shouted. We stormed forward, eliminating any enemy that dared to block our advance.
We burst into K’u Multan to see the priests, chay bladed knives raised in their right hands, standing, holding the frightened and screaming children. The Ahau Can Mai of Ox Witz Ha and the Chuchqajaw Rech Tinimit of Naj Tunich stood behind them on a large flowstone, their arms in the air giving tribute to Manik while the four naked boys swung the incense burners, filling the chamber
with the smell of sweet incense, the smoke twirling slowly between the lines of stalactites that ran along the border of the chamber and the broken inverted stalactites at the back of the altar.
“Sk’op Fireteam,” I shouted. My nearby Warriors flattened quickly against the walls and Chicahua, Huehue, Necalli, and Cuauhtémoc moved into position just ahead of us while heavy close combat was still occurring at the rear. “Let the children go and surrender,” I commanded.
“Teyacapan!” shouted Zyanya. One of the priests, a slightly glazed look in his eyes, stared at Zyanya. “Teyacapan!” repeated Zyanya. “It is Coszcatl you hold. It is Coszcatl, your anäb.”
Teyacapan looked down at his sister, his brow furrowed, then back to Zyanya.
“Sacrifice the children,” shouted the Chuchqajaw Rech Tinimit or Manik will bring desolation to our people. This sacrifice is the will of Manik.”
“Teyacapan,” shouted Zyanya. “Listen to me. It is I, Zyanya, your taat.” Teyacapan’s bow furrowed deeper as his eyes slowly began to lose their confused look.
“It is Coszcatl,” cried out Zyanya, with an entreating voice. “Your anäb. Save her.”
Teyacapan’s eyes began opening wide, in terror, in realization, of what he was about to do. He let go of his knife, bent forward, covered Coszatl with his arms as if to protect her. The other eleven priests started bringing down their obsidian blades. Six of the priests suddenly dropped their knives as they grabbed at ch’abs piercing through their chests. Immediately following, the five remaining priests each took a ch’ab, one taking two. As the priests let go of the children and began falling, their eyes in shock, blood gushing from their wounds, all the children except Coszcatl ran towards us.
Sisimito III--Topoxte Page 29